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      R&B That Sweats, Emotionally and Physically

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      New releases from Brent Faiyaz and Muni Long show how the genre has evolved in recent years.There’s a beautiful, crabby song in the middle of “Wasteland,” the new album by the singer and songwriter Brent Faiyaz, called “Rolling Stone.” The synthesizers are operating at full throb, what sounds like a meandering flute wanders in and out, and there are no discernible drums. Faiyaz opens with a lamentation: “I’m a rolling stone/I’m too wild for you to own,” then turns defensive, complaining, “First I’m exciting, then I’m gaslighting/Make up your mind.”He has an earnest, sturdy voice, sometimes deploying an anxious yelp that casually recalls Raphael Saadiq. But unlike that classicist singer, Faiyaz is more of an impressionist, alternating between vocal tones, delivering some lines with power and some from a distance. “Rolling Stone” is spacious and ethereal but not directionless — it is R&B that privileges mood over structure, soft daubs of feeling over authoritative belting.“I’m sorry in advance if I let you down,” Faiyaz sings, with an energy that sounds less like regret than resignation. He knows that he absolutely did.“Wasteland” is an album about failure performed by someone currently at the peak of his success. It just debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard album chart, reflecting the stored-up anticipation for the R&B singer since his last release in 2020.But Faiyaz’s ambient approach also encapsulates something about the state of mainstream R&B, which has had a challenging decade, and has only in the last couple of years found a new creative sweet spot. That hasn’t always been reflected commercially, however. There has been almost no turnover on the Billboard R&B albums chart — of the current Top 25, only seven were released in the last year, and many are several years old.This stagnation is in no small part a result of how Drake and his informal cache of protégés took the melodies and emotional gestures of R&B and seamlessly melded them into hip-hop at the turn of the 2010s, leaving a generation of pure singers interested in older modes of R&B in the lurch. Faiyaz is part of a newish wave — see also Bryson Tiller — that has reverse engineered Drake’s alchemy and applied it to R&B. For Faiyaz, that means soul music that’s trippy, fitful and attitudinal; there are almost no classic soul arrangements, nor even the hard swing of 1990s hip-hop soul.“Wasteland” demonstrates the limitations of that approach as often as its strengths. The album describes, in often discomfiting detail, the wages of fame, juggling boasting and self-loathing in equal measure. Faiyaz sings with conviction, but he’s rarely grounded. Instead, he lives somewhere out in space — a man regarding his experiences from afar.Its production, which zigzags, wheezes and soothes, rarely feeling steady, sometimes tells the story more effectively than he does. “All Mine” sounds like it’s being delivered through a shower of static, and “Price of Fame” rests on a bed of resonant plinks that feel bulbous and slippery. There are urgent punches of strings on “Loose Change” and new wave shimmers on “Jackie Brown.” (Faiyaz is a producer on most of the songs here, along with some regular collaborators including Jordan Waré. Intriguingly, Saadiq is also a producer on two songs.)But even as the production moves in various directions, Faiyaz’s story remains constant: He is a cad, made worse by success, and a disappointment to women he’s pledged to love. “I’m probably faded when you see me on the TV, I can’t help that/I’m just playing cards I was dealt bad,” he croons on “Ghetto Gatsby,” one of the album’s best songs (if you can ignore the Alicia Keys guest rap). Here he leans past Drake-like emotional reckoning and into the depravity that characterized the early mixtapes from the Weeknd.That continues on the series of skits that span the album, which catalog a desperately broken relationship between Faiyaz and a woman who is pregnant with his child. They’re uncomfortable, cruel and end with an awful cliffhanger; taken together, they’re almost as unsettling as “We Cry Together,” the aggrieved tête-à-tête from Kendrick Lamar’s latest album.There is sex on this album, but not much pleasure — mostly it’s a tool of ego. Even though Faiyaz boasts abstractly of his prodigious conquests, little is explicitly carnal — aggressive flirting on “All Mine,” and an allusion to leaving “love stains” in the back of an Uber on “Ghetto Gatsby.” Faiyaz’s in-and-out-of-focus mode doesn’t leave much room for ecstasy.That slack, though, has lately been taken up by female singers, who are revivifying the erotic in R&B. The frankness of Summer Walker and SZA, perhaps taking a page from the brashness of the recent class of female rap stars, including Megan Thee Stallion and Cardi B, has been one of the most thrilling movements in pop music over the past couple of years.When it broke out on TikTok late last year, Muni Long’s “Hrs & Hrs” felt like a logical continuation of that phenomenon. With languorous sensuality, Long sings about how time becomes elastic when you’re enthralled. “Order shrimp and lobster towers/But it’s me that gets devoured,” she sings, patiently and desperately, as if buckling under unrepressed humidity.That song originally appeared on Long’s self-released 2021 album “Public Displays of Affection,” the third she’d released under that artist name. (She formerly put out music as Priscilla Renea.) It was one of several songs of hers — “Thot Thoughts, “Bodies” — that underscored the importance of desire.Her new EP, “Public Displays of Affection Too,” is concise and tart. Her songs are crisply structured in the 1990s vein, sauntering head-nodders with pointed vocal emphasis. There is one up-tempo song, “Baby Boo,” which nods to the Atlanta bass classic “My Boo” by Ghost Town DJ’s as she and the rapper Saweetie engage in indulgent praise of their partners.But skepticism suits Long better, and the remainder of the songs thrive on the tension of craving the person that’s pulling away from you. On “Another,” she’s adamant about telling her partner someone else “bought me roses, you wasn’t focused.” “Cartier” links generosity and arousal: “If you tryna cuff/Wanna see the diamonds in your eyes while we’re making love.”The rawest track is “Crack,” by far the most explicit song Long has released: “If I let you take off my dress/What’s between my legs/You didn’t know that it could get you hooked like that.” It’s also her most relaxed moment, the sound of someone secure in her desire, and who doesn’t have time to be anxious. More

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      Bad Bunny Holds at No. 1, With Brent Faiyaz Close Behind

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      The Puerto Rican superstar earns his fifth week at the top, but “Wasteland,” an unexpected drop from the Maryland R&B singer, made a statement.The top album on the Billboard chart this week is Bad Bunny’s “Un Verano Sin Ti,” a streaming juggernaut that is notching its fifth time at No. 1.But just as notable is what lands at No. 2: “Wasteland” by Brent Faiyaz, an R&B singer from Maryland who eschewed the major-label route and has released his music independently, a path that usually means earning a bigger slice of a smaller pie. After putting out songs last year with guest spots by Drake and Tyler, the Creator, Faiyaz released “Wasteland” on July 8, with little advance notice. For the last week, the music industry has been focused on Faiyaz to see if he could not only topple Bad Bunny — one of the standard-bearers for streaming-driven superstardom — but also perform the rare feat of taking an entirely independent project to No. 1.“Wasteland” didn’t quite make it to the summit. But it got close enough to make a statement that will surely be heard by every new artist contemplating accepting a major-label deal. “Un Verano Sin Ti” had the equivalent of 105,000 sales in the United States, including 147 million streams, while “Wasteland” had 88,000 sales, including 107 million streams, according to the tracking service Luminate. Weekly equivalent sales for “Un Verano” have never dipped below 100,000 since its release in May, and it has racked up a total of 2 billion streams in the U.S. alone.Even though many artists today control their recording rights, and may have labels or imprints of their own, the majority of high-charting albums still pass through the major-label system. Each of the three global music conglomerates — Universal, Sony and Warner — operate large distribution arms that specialize in releasing music by independent acts. Bad Bunny, for example, may be signed to Rimas Entertainment, a company controlled by his manager, but Rimas has a distribution deal with the Orchard, owned by Sony.To release “Wasteland,” Faiyaz went through Stem, one of several indie-distribution platforms. The last No. 1 album that bypassed the major-label infrastructure was “Skins” by the rapper XXXTentacion in late 2018, via the independent music company Empire.Also on the chart this week, Aespa, a four-woman K-pop group, opens at No. 3 with the mini-album “Girls,” which had 56,000 sales, mostly as CDs. Harry Styles’s “Harry’s House” is No. 4 and Morgan Wallen’s “Dangerous: The Double Album” falls one spot to No. 5. More

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      Lizzo Conquers Self-Doubt With an ’80s Jam, and 7 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Brent Faiyaz, Pink, Marcus Mumford and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Lizzo, ‘2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)’“2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)” — from Lizzo’s new album, “Special” — is a self-questioning self-help pop track with 1980s drum machines and synthesizers pumping syncopated octaves and handclaps over an aerobics-friendly beat, heading toward the upward key change of a classic pop single. As Lizzo sings about temptation and insecurity contending with the promise of pleasure, it’s clear what’s going to win.Pink, ‘Irrelevant’Self-doubt turns to defiance and then to righteous anger in “Irrelevant,” a thumping, guitar-strumming, generalized pop-rock protest that makes up in spirit and momentum what it lacks in focus. As the arrangement builds behind her, Pink sings about fear, calls out religious hypocrisy, makes common cause with “the kids” and finally, backed by a mass of vocals, belts, “Girls just wanna have rights/So why do we have to fight?”Demi Lovato, ‘Substance’After all Demi Lovato’s travails, the singer wails a 21st-century plaint about superficiality and loneliness: “Am I the only one looking for substance?” The backup is pure professional punk-pop, pushing those loud guitars and muscular drums as Lovato works up to a near-shriek and flings “whoa-oh” as a hook. But the frustration comes through as loudly as the guitars.Brent Faiyaz, ‘Loose Change’Brent Faiyaz, an R&B singer, songwriter and producer, has landed collaborations with Drake, Alicia Keys and Tyler, the Creator. His surprise-released second album, “Wasteland,” which is full of songs and skits about romantic suspense — both good and bad — is poised for a big debut on the Billboard 200 album chart. “Loose Change” backs him with an implied beat — no drums, lots of space — sketched by syncopated chords from a string ensemble, skulking synthesizer tones and his own imploring voice. In a tremulous tenor croon that echoes Usher, he sings about how infatuation can turn to irritation, indicting his own worst impulses and wondering, “What’s left of us, what’s left of our lives?”The A’s, ‘When I Die’“When I Die” is morbid but practical, and ultimately affectionate. The A’s are Amelia Meath, from the electronic band Sylvan Esso, and Alexandra Sauser-Monnig from Daughter of Swords. Their new album, “Fruit,” is mostly other people’s songs, but “When I Die” is their own. Singing close harmony in what could almost be a nursery-rhyme melody, they add percussion and synthesizer bass lines over what sounds like marching feet. And they calmly provide instructions for a memorial — loud music, flowers, dancing, toasts and a funeral pyre “to light your way back home” — to remind survivors that “I’m sorry I left you behind/and I’m kissing you through this song.”Marcus Mumford, ‘Cannibal’Marcus Mumford, from Mumford and Sons, confronts deep and confusing trauma in “Cannibal,” from a solo album due in September. He doesn’t specify what happened, but he insists, “That wasn’t a choice in the mind of a child.” Most of the track is just his voice and a few guitar notes picked on low strings. But as he faces up to how hard it is to speak about the events, and pleads “help me know how to begin again,” a arena-filling band suddenly materializes behind him; it’s the breakthrough he longs for.Sabrina Carpenter, ‘Because I Liked a Boy’Things go wrong fast in Sabrina Carpenter’s “Because I Liked a Boy” from her new album, “Emails I Can’t Send.” It starts out sounding cozy and old-fashioned, with just an echoey electric guitar playing 1950s chords as she sings about what could be a rom-com flirtation: “We bonded over black-eyed peas and complicated exes,” she coos. “It was all so innocent.” But the chorus changes everything; an ominous synthesizer bass tone arrives and she’s being accused of being “a homewrecker” and “a slut” and getting truckloads of death threats, and the bass and drum machine heave beneath her like the ground is shaking. She keeps her composure, but just barely.Pantha du Prince, ‘Golden Galactic’Pantha du Prince — the electronic musician Hendrik Weber — works where ambient and dance music overlap. He’s fond of nature imagery and pretty, consonant sounds, but his music is changeable and contemplative rather than saccharine. “Golden Galactic,” from his upcoming album “Golden Gaia,” uses plinking, harplike motifs, repeating them a few times and moving on, constantly changing up the implied rhythms instead of settling into a loop. That restless motion is enfolded in swelling string-section chords, going nowhere in particular yet not staying still. More

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      The 1975’s Chamber-Pop Confessions, and 8 More New Songs

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      Hear new tracks from Alvvays, Tyshawn Sorey, Killer Mike and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.The 1975, ‘Part of the Band’Matty Healy, the proudly enigmatic singer-songwriter of the 1975, leads his group into chamber-pop with “Part of the Band,” the first song from an album due in October, “Being Funny in a Foreign Language.” He sings about “cringes and heroin binges,” about a “vaccinista tote-bag chic barista” and about literary-minded gay liaisons — “I was Rimbaud and he was Paul Verlaine.” He also queries, “Am I ironically woke?” The production wanders from chugging string ensemble to fingerpicked folk-rock to saxophone choir, with all of them mingling near the end. It’s pandemic confusion, self-questioning and ennui, with melodies to spare. JON PARELESAlvvays, ‘Pharmacist’A plain-spoken, everyday admission — “I know you’re back, I saw your sister at the pharmacy” — kick-starts the latest single from the Canadian dream-pop band Alvvays; as soon as the vocalist Molly Rankin sings that line, the song suddenly transforms into a fantasia of melancholic melody and squalling guitars. Hints of My Bloody Valentine and Japanese Breakfast hang in the hazy atmosphere, but Rankin’s bittersweet delivery gives “Pharmacist,” the opening track from the upcoming album “Blue Rev,” a distinct emotional undertow, like a stirring dream that ends a little too soon. LINDSAY ZOLADZJulien Baker, ‘Guthrie’“Guthrie” is a quietly harrowing postscript to Julien Baker’s 2021 album “Little Oblivions” from a collection, “B-Sides,” being released later this month. Like “Little Oblivions,” the song confronts what it’s like to be an addict: “Whatever I get, I always need a little more,” she sings. But while Baker overdubbed herself into a rock band on “Little Oblivions,” in “Guthrie” she’s solo, picking a soothing waltz on her guitar as she tears into her own failings. The song is a crisis of conscience and of faith, with a voice humbled by self-knowledge. “Wanted so bad to be good,” she offers, “but there’s no such thing.” PARELESKing Princess, ‘Change the Locks’“A year without no separation just might have broke us, baby,” King Princess sings in “Change the Locks,” a song about how pandemic proximity — and friction — could destroy a relationship. It’s three-chord folk-rock that explodes into hard rock when King Princess (the Brooklyn songwriter Mikaela Strauss) realizes how bad things have gotten. She wants to hold on; she knows she can’t. PARELESFlo, ‘Immature’English R&B lags American innovations by years or sometimes decades. The vocal trio Flo is catching up with what American acts like Destiny’s Child accomplished in the 1990s: calling out male assumptions while mastering recording techniques and harnessing voices, instruments and machines to sharpen their message of self-determination. The way Flo juggles individual voices and two or three-part harmonies, flirtation and fury, harks back to Destiny’s Child, but unerringly: “Why you gotta be so immature,” they sing, adding “Tell me how can I relate/If you don’t communicate?” Even before a crying-baby sample slips into the mix, it’s easy to know who’s in the wrong. PARELESGhetto Kumbé, ‘Pila Pila (Trooko Remix)’Ghetto Kumbé is a group from Bogotá that fortifies Afro-Colombian drumming and socially conscious lyrics with electronics; it released a potent self-titled debut album in 2020 and has opened for Radiohead. The group handed over tracks from its album to various producers for “Ghetto Kumbé Clubbing Remixes,” an album due in November. “Pila Pila,” a brawny tribute to the power of drums, got reworked by the Grammy-winning Honduran producer Trooko (who worked on “Residente” and “The Hamilton Mixtape”). He revved it up even further, switching the meter from 6/4 to 4/4, moving its incantatory lead vocal to the start of the song and bringing in a hopping salsa bass line, electronic hoots, jazzy piano and twitchy drum machines, constantly hurtling ahead. PARELESKiller Mike featuring Young Thug, ‘Run’A verse from a still-jailed Young Thug only adds to the urgency of “Run,” Killer Mike’s first new track as a solo artist since his vital 2012 album “R.A.P. Music.” Across four fruitful albums with Run the Jewels, it’s become commonplace to hear Mike rapping over El-P’s kinetic, collagelike beats, but it’s refreshing here to hear him link up once again with the veteran No I.D., whose understated production allows Killer Mike to tap into a smoother flow. “The race to freedom ain’t won,” he raps on the chorus, providing some welcome counterprogramming to your standard Independence Day jingoism. ZOLADZDomi & JD Beck (featuring Anderson .Paak), ‘Take a Chance’Jazz might be one of the only spaces left where the term “internet star” still means anything. Domi & JD Beck are Exhibit A, a duo of virtuosic post-jazz Zoomers who seem to have leaped out of a cartoon, and whose wow factor is suited to the small screen: A blond keyboardist rips solos while a diminutive drummer taps out hyper-contained, hyperactive beats. References to jazz history are funneled into the aesthetics of a sped-up TV jingle. Domi and Beck have found a champion in Anderson .Paak, and their debut album, “Not Tight,” is being jointly released by his new label and Blue Note Records. Redolent of lounge, ’70s fusion, trip-hop and breakbeat, this LP offers the nonstop dopamine drip of a doom-scroll, and it’s heavy on star features: Thundercat, Snoop Dogg and Mac DeMarco all pull up. “Take a Chance” is their moment with Paak, and if his earnest, rapped pledges of devotion don’t exactly square with the song’s feel-good vibes and the geometrically sound pop hook that Domi and Beck sing, you’re hard-pressed to hold it against them. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOTyshawn Sorey Trio, ‘Enchantment’A multi-instrumentalist, composer, University of Pennsylvania professor and MacArthur “genius” grantee, Tyshawn Sorey is likely to be found writing suite-length experimental works, or serving as composer in residence with an opera company, or conjuring up new systems for group improvisation. It’s been a long time since anyone really thought of him as “just” a jazz drummer. So, for Sorey, recording an album of standards with a piano trio qualifies as a curve ball. Of course, he has a big fondness for throwing curves. Sorey recently joined up with the pianist Aaron Diehl, one of jazz’s standard-bearing traditionalists, and the versatile bassist Matt Brewer to record “Mesmerism,” an album of jazz classics and lesser-known pieces from the canon. Horace Silver’s “Enchantment” is usually played as a tautly rhythmic samba, but the trio retrofits it, with Diehl putting the lush precision of his harmonies to work over a loose-limbed, shuffling beat from Sorey. RUSSONELLO More

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      Patrick Adams, Master of New York’s Underground Disco Scene, Dies at 72

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      He produced, arranged or engineered many of the era’s biggest nightclub hits, even if his records rarely got much play on the radio.Patrick Adams, a producer, arranger and engineer who brought experimentation, sophistication and infectious grooves to countless soul and disco singles — his fellow producer Nile Rodgers called him “a master at keeping butts on the dance floor” — died on Wednesday at his home in Manhattan. He was 72.His daughter, Joi Sanchez, said the cause was cancer.If you’ve boogied the night away at a disco or circled a roller rink in the last 50 years, chances are you’ve done it to music that Mr. Adams helped shepherd into existence, even if his name doesn’t ring a bell. Despite his low profile, he left his fingerprints everywhere, often as an engineer or arranger, sitting behind the mixing board for acts like Gladys Knight, Rick James and Salt-N-Pepa.His greatest legacy, though, was the scores of tracks he produced in the 1970s for New York’s underground disco scene, the energetic, transgressive and insanely creative corner of a genre often written off as cheesy and uncreative. If radio stations in Cleveland and Topeka weren’t playing music he had produced, you could be sure that New York clubs like Gallery and Paradise Garage were.“He was very underground,” Vince Aletti, who covered disco for Record World magazine, said in a phone interview. “He was really popular on a club level. He rarely broke through above that, but that kind of made him even more like he was ours.”Mr. Adams’s style varied from album to album, but each release was expertly crafted and irresistibly catchy, at once lofty and raunchy — like Musique’s “In the Bush,” a summer-defining club hit of 1978 that one critic said was among “the horniest records ever made.”As with many of Mr. Adams’s studio acts, Musique was in a way just a front for his own musical prowess. After a record executive hired him to create a disco hit, he wrote the music and lyrics, arranged the instruments (many of which he played himself) and hired the singers.He did much the same with acts like Inner Life, Phreek, Cloud One, Bumblebee Unlimited and the Universal Robot Band — a stable of groups, often drawing from the same pool of personnel, that allowed him to spread his creative wings in different directions.Some singles, like Inner Life’s “I’m Caught Up (In a One Night Love Affair),” are classic strings-and-beat disco, while others, like Cloud One’s “Atmospheric Strut,” are trippy blends of sci-fi funk and proto-house.But if Mr. Adams was in control, he was never dictatorial; his studio was always a collaborative space.“He gave you room to develop, as long as he thought it was creative,” Christine Wiltshire, who sang lead vocals for Musique, said in a phone interview. “He was never ‘This is the way it’s supposed to go.’”Unlike many disco producers then and many dance producers since, Mr. Adams had little regard for beats and loops. Those came later. He emphasized the melody, the lyrics and above all the story his songs were trying to tell.“If you start with a great song that has an attractive melody, a lyric that tells a story people can relate to, you’re way ahead of the game,” he told The New York Observer in 2017. “If you start with a beat, which in reality is not much different than anything anybody else could contrive with Fruity Loops or other computer software, you’re just one of a million people making noise.”Mr. Adams was best known for his disco work, but he got his start with soul bands in the early 1970s, and in the ’80s, after disco faded, he was an engineer for some of the leading acts in New York’s emerging hip-hop scene, like Salt-N-Pepa and Erik B. & Rakim.“I always look at music as music, not necessarily having a genre,” he told The Guardian in 2017. “I was not trying to make a disco record. I was trying to make just a great record.”Mr. Adams was born on March 17, 1950, in Harlem, where he grew up four blocks from the Apollo Theater. His father, Fince, was a merchant seaman, and his mother, Rose, was a homemaker.Patrick was musically inclined at an early age: His father bought him a trumpet when he was 10 and gave him an acoustic guitar when he was 12. He sang in choir and played guitar in a band, the Sparks, when he was 16.But his real interest was production. He experimented with his father’s reel-to-reel tape deck to master skills like overdubbing. He hung out at studios, learning about mixing boards. He would dissect songs he heard on the radio, trying to understand their arrangements and structure.“I always shopped for records by producer, arranger and songwriter,” he was quoted as saying in a profile by the journalist Jason King for the Red Bull Music Academy website. “The way D.J.s shop for records now is how I used to shop for records when I was a kid.”Later he would hang around the back door of the Apollo, so often that Reuben L. Phillips, who conducted the in-house orchestra, let him distribute sheet music.In the late 1960s he began working for Perception Records as an entry-level jingle writer; by 1970, he was executive vice president. A year later he discovered his first big act, the group Black Ivory, which sang slow-soul hits like “Don’t Turn Around” and “Time Is Love.”Mr. Adams became known around New York for his lush, energetic string arrangements, and in 1974 he left Perception to start his own arranging and engineering company. A year later he and the music promoter Peter Brown founded a label, P&P Records, to release his underground music.Mr. Adams never married, but he was in a longtime relationship with Ms. Wiltshire, the mother of Ms. Sanchez. They later separated, but the two remained close. Along with his daughter, he is survived by a brother, Gus; another daughter, Tira Adams; a son, Malcolm Holmes; and six grandchildren. His brother Terry died in 2020.Mr. Adams in performance at the Alhambra Ballroom in Harlem in 2017. Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool While Mr. Adams never won the sort of public acclaim given to fellow producers like Mr. Rodgers or Quincy Jones, he did enjoy a renaissance in the 1990s among D.J.s who fell in love with his innovative productions. He found a similar following among hip-hop artists like Mac Miller, Raekwon and Kanye West, all of whom sampled his music.Still, he seemed at ease with his relative anonymity.“You can tell a Nile Rodgers record a million miles away because it has an imprint that emanates from his guitar,” Mr. Adams said in a 2017 interview for the Red Bull Music Academy. “In my case I tried to avoid that. I didn’t want my records to sound the same.“Whether that was a positive thing or a negative thing, I don’t know. But at the same time there is a signature in my music — sometimes it’s harmonic, and sometimes it’s just in the quirkiness of things. And sometimes you just don’t hear it until somebody points it out to you and asks, ‘Oh, he did that record too?’” More

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      Dolly Parton Voted Into Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

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      The country singer had objected to being included, but will join a class that includes Carly Simon, Duran Duran and others from across genres.Despite a last-minute plea to “respectfully bow out” of consideration for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, the country singer Dolly Parton made it in anyway, joining a musically diverse array of inductees for 2022 that also includes Eminem, Lionel Richie, Carly Simon, Eurythmics, Duran Duran and Pat Benatar.The honorees — voted on by more than 1,000 artists, historians and music industry professionals — “each had a profound impact on the sound of youth culture and helped change the course of rock ’n’ roll,” said John Sykes, the chairman of the Rock Hall, in a statement.Parton, 76, had said in March that she was “extremely flattered and grateful to be nominated” but didn’t feel that she had “earned that right” to be recognized as a rock artist at the expense of others. Ballots, however, had already been sent to voters, and the hall said they would remain unchanged, noting that the organization was “not defined by any one genre” and had deep roots in country and rhythm and blues.In an interview with NPR last week, Parton said she would accept her induction after all, should it come to pass. “It was always my belief that the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame was for the people in rock music, and I have found out lately that it’s not necessarily that,” she said.But she added, “if they can’t go there to be recognized, where do they go? So I just felt like I would be taking away from someone that maybe deserved it, certainly more than me, because I never considered myself a rock artist.”Following years of criticism regarding diversity — less than 8 percent of inductees were women as of 2019 — the Rock Hall has made a point in recent years to expand its purview. Artists like Jay-Z, Whitney Houston and Janet Jackson have been welcomed in from the worlds of rap, R&B and pop, alongside prominent women across genres like the Go-Go’s, Carole King and Tina Turner.This year, Eminem becomes just the 10th hip-hop act to be inducted, making the cut on his first ballot. (Artists become eligible for induction 25 years after the release of their first commercial recording.)Parton, Richie, Simon and Duran Duran were also selected on their first go-round, while fresh nominees like Beck and A Tribe Called Quest, who had been eligible for more than a decade, were passed over. Simon, known for her folk-inflected pop hits like “You’re So Vain,” was a first-time nominee more than 25 years after she qualified. Benatar and Eurythmics, long eligible, had each been considered once before.Those passed over this year also included Kate Bush, Devo, Fela Kuti, MC5, New York Dolls, Rage Against the Machine and Dionne Warwick.Judas Priest was on the ballot, but will instead be inducted in the non-performer category for musical excellence, alongside the songwriting and production duo Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis. Harry Belafonte and Elizabeth Cotten will be recognized with the Early Influence Award, while the executives Allen Grubman, Jimmy Iovine and Sylvia Robinson are set to receive the Ahmet Ertegun Award, named for the longtime Atlantic Records honcho and one of the founders of the Rock Hall.The 37th annual induction ceremony will be held on Nov. 5, at Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles, and will air at a later date on HBO and SiriusXM. More

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      Sam Smith’s Ode to Self-Acceptance, and 10 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Regina Spektor, Tokischa, Wilco and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Sam Smith, ‘Love Me More’“Every day I’m trying not to hate myself,” the pop crooner Sam Smith sings on a new single, “but lately it’s not hurting like it did before.” “Love Me More” is a simple but affecting ode to self-acceptance, and Smith delivers it with a breezy lightness that convincingly brings the message home. The arrangement keeps things airy and understated, so that even when a choir of backing singers enters in the middle, the effect is neither dolorous nor heavy-handed. The song, like Smith, keeps moving forward with a confident spring in its step. LINDSAY ZOLADZRegina Spektor, ‘Up the Mountain’Regina Spektor traces an ecological treasure hunt — ocean to mountain to forest to garden to flower to nectar — in “Up the Mountain,” seeking an answer in the taste of that nectar. It’s mystical and earthy, moving from tolling piano to implacable beat, with strings and horns ganging up behind her; whether or not she finds her answer, she’s thrown everything into the search. JON PARELESWilco, ‘Falling Apart (Right Now)’Wilco’s going country — or maybe it’s just going back. Jeff Tweedy has always had a complicated relationship with the genre: His work with Uncle Tupelo and the early Wilco records certainly flirted with it, but they also had the sort of punkish grit that generally earned them the “alt” prefix. There’s a straightforward sincerity to “Falling Apart (Right Now),” though, that makes the first single from the band’s forthcoming “Cruel Country” feel like fresh territory for a group 12 records and three decades into its run. “Baby, being blue, when it comes to me and you,” Tweedy sings, “it’s always on the menu.” His delivery has a playful, twangy warmth, but what really sells the song and its country bona fides is the nimble steel guitar playing of Nels Cline. ZOLADZMarshmello and Tokischa, ‘Estilazo’Plenty of artists in the Latin music industry have spent the last year dabbling in electronic textures. But the Dominican dembow rebel Tokischa has never been one to conform, so don’t consider her new collaboration with the EDM producer Marshmello trend-hopping. “Estilazo” is pure Toki: raunchy lyrics, coy moans and unabashed queer aesthetics. “Larga vida homosexual,” she says on the track — long live the gays. The video is a deliciously playful romp, too: Dennis Rodman, Nikita Dragun and La Demi preside over a drag competition, as dancers walk and vogue down the runway. RuPaul is shaking in his boots, and I’ll be screaming “ser perra está de moda” (“being a bad bitch is trendy”) at the club all summer. ISABELIA HERRERAI Am, ‘Omniscient (Mycelium)’I Am is a duo: Isaiah Collier on saxophone and Michael Shekwoaga Ode on drums. “Omniscient (Mycelium)” has a basic structure — a 4/4 beat and a mode — that gives them ample room to improvise and embellish. Collier touches down regularly on two low notes before he goes trampolining into upper-register acrobatics; the drumming grows ever more hyperactive to match him, and the track fades out before they peak. PARELESAdrian Quesada featuring Gabriel Garzón-Montano, ‘El Paraguas’It is difficult to recreate the magic of a balada, a song of longing popular in the 1970s that defined a generation in Latin America. The Black Pumas guitarist and producer Adrián Quesada manages to harness the genre’s power on a forthcoming album called “Boleros Psicodelicos.” “El Paraguas,” with the Colombian artist Gabriel Garzón-Montano, exemplifies the raw, full-throated vocal drama of the record; Montano unleashes a torrent of verve and anguish that glides over the woozy production. A vintage organ helps conjure a spaced-out, nostalgic haze. HERRERAFlora Purim, ‘500 Miles High’The Brazilian vocalist Flora Purim has never sung like a jazz crooner, nor like your average bossa nova whisperer. When she burst onto the scene in the 1970s, she had something unique: an ingenuous, gossamer voice that became immediately recognizable, and fit perfectly into the fast-opening landscape of jazz fusion. On her latest album, “If You Will,” Purim pays tribute to Chick Corea, whose Return to Forever was her first major gig; the pianist died last year. Here she presents a version of “500 Miles High,” their most famous collaboration from the Return to Forever years. She sounds remarkably undiminished at 80, as her band takes a high-energy run through the tune, driven by Endrigo Bettega’s hotfooted drumming. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOMaria de Fátima, ‘Vocé’Maria de Fátima, from Rio de Janeiro, spent much of her career singing backup for leading Brazilian songwriters and singers: Milton Nascimento, Gilberto Gil, Chico Buarque, Flora Purim. But in 1981, when she was living in Uruguay — it’s a long story — she seized her chance to record a solo album, “Bahia Com H,” rereleased today. The album mingled her Brazilian spirit with her Uruguayan backup; she sang acclaimed Brazilian songs alongside her own, among them “Vocé,” which envisions lovers united like the sun and moon. Syncopated acoustic guitars and hand percussion in an odd meter — ⅞ — carry her through a melody that hops around and keeps landing on expressive dissonances; imagine if Joni Mitchell were born in Brazil. PARELESMiles Okazaki, ‘In Some Far Off Place’The guitarist Miles Okazaki and his longstanding quartet, Trickster, have never sounded as unbounded as they do on their newest album, “Thisness.” Trickster’s normal signatures are its elaborately stitched, lopsided grooves and its affinity for lunging misdirection, following the lead of Okazaki’s chunky single-note playing. But that’s all submerged here in a blend of thrummed acoustic guitar, wobbly bass from Anthony Tidd, and distant sonic elements that rise and fade (you may hear voices lurking behind the instrumentals, but only faintly, and only for brief moments). At first, it recalls the aesthetic of 1970s ECM albums by Eberhard Weber, Gary Burton and Ralph Towner. By the end something closer to Trickster’s usual brand of woozy kinetics has kicked in, but the new sense of mystery hasn’t been dispelled. RUSSONELLOGiveon, ‘Lie Again’Giveon’s voice floats in a jealous limbo in “Lie Again,” a new take on the age-old lover’s plight of trying and failing not to think about a partner’s past. “Lie so sweet until I believe/that it’s only been me to touch you,” he implores aching smoothness. The track eases along on a vintage soul chord progression, but the production summons ghostly voices and furtive instruments, like all the facts the singer wishes he could avoid. PARELESSkylar Grey, ‘Runaway’Emerging from marital and legal entanglements with her first album in six years — self-titled as a declaration of sincerity — Skylar Grey whisper-croons about desperation for a second chance in “Runaway.” She’s barely accompanied as she sings, “I need a place where I can be alone”; strings cradle her as she hopes to “start the whole thing over.” The music builds patiently as she hopes for the best. PARELES More

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      Kehlani’s Journey of Healing

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      On “Blue Water Road,” the singer infuses confessional lyrics with newfound emotional clarity.There’s a simple but powerful promise in “Little Story,” the orchestral epic that opens Kehlani’s new album, “Blue Water Road” — one that captures what it feels like to spend a lifetime chasing safe, tender intimacy in partnership: “Working on being softer/’Cause you are a dream, to me.”The phrase evokes one of the foundations of Kehlani’s music: a commitment to openness and fearless vulnerability in the face of romantic turmoil. Kehlani, who uses she/they pronouns, has always been confessional, a quality that has resonated with a generation of pop and R&B fans and that can be felt on the singer’s last two albums (and mixtapes). This time around, the insecurities of love and heartbreak are still there, but there’s a newfound awareness — an emotional clarity that illuminates how healing isn’t always linear.All this wisdom didn’t just materialize out of thin air. In the past two years, Kehlani has experienced several life-altering shifts: settling into motherhood; losing two close friends to drug overdoses; enduring a brutal public breakup with the rapper YG; and coming out as a lesbian and as nonbinary. Many of these themes appeared on the 2020 album “It Was Good Until It Wasn’t,” and some of them are reprised here, but that project was cloudy and macabre, driven by sparse, hollow beats and a somber outlook on the prospect of building healthy love.“Blue Water Road” instead radiates delicate warmth. In a creamy, full-throated voice, Kehlani exudes a tenderness not felt since their 2017 studio album, “SweetSexySavage.” There’s still a reverence for the past: “Up at Night,” featuring Justin Bieber, interpolates Soul II Soul and Rose Windross’s 1989 track “Fairplay,” while “Wish I Never” warps the drums of Slick Rick’s classic “Children’s Story.” But there’s a fresh, imagistic aura to the production on “Blue Water Road,” rendered in part by the executive producer Andrew “Pop” Wansel. Nearly every song includes hushed acoustic guitar textures, or swelling string crescendos that revel in high drama. Echoes of wind, cresting waves and bird calls are sprinkled throughout, sketching an aural landscape that is plush and comforting, like the caress of a lover who’s been gone for too long.This is the ideal backdrop for Kehlani’s diaristic, bleeding-heart lyricism. “Little Story” harnesses a novelistic metaphor to chronicle a romance that never fully bloomed: “I want you to pick up the pen/And write me into your story,” Kehlani sings. The lead single “Altar” is a gorgeous elegy for friends lost to addiction, and the ancestors who have offered Kehlani spiritual grounding. But rather than becoming immersed in sorrow, Kehlani salutes the dearly departed with a small act of service, and reminds us their memories will never really fade: “If I set a flame and I call your name/I’ll fix you a plate, we can go to dinner/We can share a meal your way/And I’ll play the songs that you used to play.”But it’s Kehlani’s candid ruminations on queer desire and estrangement that resonate the deepest here. On the breathy slow burner “Get Me Started,” Kehlani and the R&B artist Syd lament a disconnection that threatens to end a relationship: “You need something else/Well, maybe she can do it better.” On the velvety serenade “Melt,” Kehlani cherishes the small, perfect joy of finding a home in a lover: “Wish I could build me a cute apartment/One bedroom right where your heart is.” It’s sensual but loving, capturing both the devoted affection and the erotic pleasure that make a partnership feel full.Serenity, personal growth and felicity may not be seductive topics for a contemporary R&B record. But other artists might let these motifs land with mawkish sentimentality. For Kehlani, the path to healing isn’t a straightforward journey with a beginning, middle and end, where life can finally begin after reaching some abstract, enlightened state. “Blue Water Road” is a reminder that healing is open, unfinished and everlasting.Kehlani“Blue Water Road”(Atlantic) More